


Aphrodite and The Internet

by 100demons



Category: Marvel (Movies)
Genre: Crack, Crack Pairing, F/F, Rare Pairing, SHIP DARCY WITH ALL THE THINGS, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-05 14:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100demons/pseuds/100demons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Black Widow is assigned a personal assistant. Her name? Darcy Lewis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Monday, October 3 | 6:35 AM

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Director. I’m being assigned a—“

Nick Fury smiled slowly, its edges sharp enough to cut through steel. “A personal assistant, you heard me right, Agent Romanoff. I’m sure you’re familiar with the job.”

The corner of Natasha’s left eye twitched ever so slightly. “Director Fury, I’m a field agent, not a member of the Operations and Administration Department. Nor am I from…Legal.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of that, Agent.” Fury leaned back into his massive office chair (not an unsuitable throne) and closed his one eye.

The hand resting on her lap convulsed, almost as if it were trying to reach the gun strapped to her hip. “Then, please, enlighten me as to why I’m being assigned a personal assistant when I don’t have a need for one?”

Fury opened his eye and raised a brow at her. “I don’t pay you to ask me questions, Agent Romanov. I pay you to _answer_ them.”

“Of course. Sir.” Natasha unfolded herself from her seat in a smooth and elegant movement, all sharp edges and hidden steel. “Then I expect her in my office at 0600 tomorrow morning.” She gave him a sharp nod and glided out of the room without a sound.

Nick Fury watched the door to his office slide shut with a soft hiss of air before picking up the phone on his desk. He pressed a single digit and waited for the call to connect.

“Coulson? You motherfucking bastard, you _owe_ me for this shit. I don’t know about you, but fuck if I need an angry as all fucking hell Black Widow on my back. Son of a bitch, if anything happens, it’s coming out of your paychecks. _All of them._ ”

 

Friday, September 24 | 10:15 AM

“If he asks if you’re a Mets fan or a Yankees fan, say you like the Knicks instead, because baseball is for wimps.”

Darcy stopped fanning herself with her application and instead gave the six-foot wall of muscle in front of her, a long, long look. “What makes you the expert, dollface?”

“Agent Barton,” Mr. Wall of Muscle offered easily. “You could say that I work with Agent Coulson from time to time.”

Darcy instantly brightened; she punched him in the arm and felt her knuckles shatter in an instant. “Ow, ow, ow, oh my God, what are you, made of concrete?”

“Did you just punch me?” Barton the Extremely Painful Wall of Muscle asked her incredulously, eyes widening in what would have been kinda funny except _ow_ her hand was going to fall off and shrivel and _die._

“Can we get past that and towards, oh, I don’t know, my pulverized hand?” Darcy demanded, cradling it close to her chest.

“…I can’t believe you just punched me—“

“ _My hand, MY HAND_ —“

“—and LIVED.”

Darcy instantly shut up. “No way. You mean I—“

“Got past my defenses and managed to touch me with only a few fractured bones? Are you sure you’re a civilian?”

“People have told me that I look and sound eerily like the personification of the Internet,” Darcy said solemnly.

Barton raised an eyebrow. “Can you kill people with that?”

She wiggled the fingers of her unbroken hand. “Barton, meet 4Chan.” At his confused look, Darcy added reassuringly, “Trust me. It’s been known to melt gray matter within a matter of seconds.”

“Huh.” Barton shrugged. “Well, Phil’s got to hire you, if only because, you know. You’re still alive. Which position are you trying to apply for anyway?”

“Something in the Archives room,” Darcy said. “I mean, I want to get the personal assistant one, if only because it offers better benefits but…social science degree and total lack of work experience.” She sighed. “I got here only because of the Thor thing anyway.”

“You’re kidding me—don’t tell me you were at New Mexico?”

“Yeah, I was interning for Jane—Dr. Foster. You know, She Who Remade The Rainbow Bridge of Skittles blah blah blah. I was there when Thor decided to pop by and have some epic battle with a giant mecha monster and destroy Puente Antiguo.”

Barton looked suitably impressed; he crossed his arms over his chest, which just made his muscles look even bigger.

“I was there too, just to keep an eye on stuff with Coulson. I didn’t know you were caught in that shitfest too.”

“Well,” Darcy preened. “I am a woman of many secrets.”

“I can imagine,” Clint said dryly. He checked the watch on his wrist and frowned, the corners of his mouth tugging down. “Damn, I gotta go. Meetings,” he explained.

“Meeting away,” Darcy said, her eyes glinting. “But you still owe me for my hand!” Which of course, chose to throb painfully at that moment.

“Look, I’m really sorry about that. Is there—“

“You can buy me dinner and beer. Five o’clock sound good to you?”

“…Alright,” Clint said warily. “I’ll meet you at Finnegan’s. Between six and seventh on 36th?”

“Great, it’ll be Happy Hour.” Darcy grinned wolfishly. “Bring the money, I’ll bring my indestructible liver.”

“Jesus, I guess you really are the Internet. Planning to scam me out of my money?”

“Please,” Darcy said dismissively. “If I was going to scam you, I would have pretended I was the long lost daughter of some Nigerian prince.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel better.”

“It wasn’t supposed to.”

Friday, September 24 | 2:23 PM

 _Well,_ Darcy reflected, looking at the shattered remnants of her Starbucks frappuccino, and then up at the giant killer monster robot that just squished it. _Today really isn’t my day._ Then her self-preservation instincts kicked in and shut down her brain.

 _Run! Run awaaaaaaay!,_ her instincts wailed. _KILLER ROBOTS EAT DARCY._  

Darcy obeyed.

SHIELD offices were only a few feet away from her, but followed by a giant robot bent on death and destruction and killing fluffy animals, it seemed more like a thousand. “Oh God, I knew I should have gone to the gym more. But how was I supposed to know that I should work out in case a giant robot decided to eat—“ Darcy ducked and the laser beam meant for her head instead sliced six feet of solid stone from the office building in front of her.

She stopped and stared at the wreckage. “Now is not a good time for my entire life to be flashing before my eyes!” she yelped.

“RAAAARGH,” the robot said, a few feet behind her.

“Okay, okay, I’m running, I’m running, oh my God, this is not a cool way to die, I just got a _job_ —“

 _Woah_. _She’s so pretty._ It was like Aphrodite had come to life, wearing a skin-tight black bodysuit with pointy knives and a very big gun. Her dark red hair gleamed in the sun and Darcy wanted to reach out and run her hand through it, just to see if it was as soft as it looked. _Like a fluffy red cloud_ , she wondered, half-dazed. Darcy didn’t even realize she had stopped running until Aphrodite grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down, barking, “Duck.”

Darcy ducked.

“RAAAARGH,” the robot complained and shot a few rockets at Aphrodite, as if it were annoyed that she had stepped in front of its next meal.

“Move,” Aphrodite said as she tucked into a smooth roll and dodged the incoming missiles.

Darcy snapped out of her worshipful reverie. “Yes—right—what—move—INCOMING ROCKETS, NOT GOOD—“ Darcy sprawled flat on the ground and crawled her way over to where Aphrodite was methodically reloading her gun behind the giant chunk of office building on the ground.

“You know, I think it wants to eat me,” Darcy said conversationally, brushing dust and soot from her blouse.

The corner of Aphrodite’s mouth twitched upwards. “Yes, I noticed.”

Darcy tried to ignore the way all of the blood in her body decided to make its way to her face. “So, Super Heroine, come to save the damsel in distress?”

“Black Widow.”

“What?”

Aphrodite whipped out her guns (which, from Darcy’s admittedly inexpert eye, looked like the grandbabies of giant bazookas) and proceeded to unload the bullets into the robot’s crotch. “You can call me Black Widow.”

Darcy tried not to swoon.

 

Friday, September 24 | 5:14 PM

“Clint,” Darcy said gravely, knocking down her second Guinness. “I want to have her babies.”

Barton tried not to choke on his own beer. “You want to _what_!”

“Have her babies.”

“Darcy, you _do_ realize she’s. You know. Lethal? Capable of killing you with her pinkie and nothing else? Extremely dangerous and wanted in a few dozen countries and all seven continents?”

“Yes,” Darcy said dreamily.

“Are you even listening to me?” Clint slammed his glass down on the bar and waved at the bartender for a refill.

“Yes,” Darcy said, her eyes slightly unfocused.

“You’re an ugly cow.”

“Ye—you asshole! What’d you say that for?” Darcy gave Clint the evil eye and reached into her purse for her taser.

“Put that down before— _down,_ Darcy. I was just checking if you still lived on Earth and not on Cloud Nine.” Clint sniffed and looked as indignant and concerned as a six foot tall wall of muscle and sharp pointy objects could.

“It’s okay,” Darcy sighed, putting her taser away. She drained the last of her beer and slumped on the stool. “It’s not like I ever have a chance with her or whatever. She’s—she’s _Aphrodite_ ,” she said reverently. “And I’m the Internet. Ugh. I need more booze in me.”

Clint patted her shoulder tentatively. “Hey, if _I_ got together with Natasha, then I’m sure you’ll have no problem.”

Darcy tried not to choke on her drink and failed. Clint thumped her on the back hard enough to crack her ribcage. “You _what_ ,” she managed to sputter, spraying beer all over the counter.

“I…had…a thing with her?”

“Oh my God,” Darcy moaned into her hands. “Someone get me brain bleach so I can scrub the image of you fucking out of my mind.”

“Just as a tip, Natasha’s great at angry sex.”

“I didn’t really need to…” Darcy trailed off and her eyes glazed over. “Angry sex,” she muttered.

“Angry sex,” Clint agreed.

“But—still! It doesn’t mean anything. Not to _me,_ who, if you happened to notice, is a lowly Archivist, not some SHIELD ninja who had _things_ with Greek goddesses incarnate.”

“You think I’m a SHIELD ninja?” Clint asked, clearly flattered.

“Not the point!” Darcy sliced the air with a wobbly hand. “The point is—the point is—“

“The point is you want to get laid with Natasha Romanov, the super-spy and assassin known as Black Widow,” Clint supplied helpfully.

“Yes! Exactly right.”

Clint smiled contemplatively and swallowed a mouthful of beer. “I think I can help you with that.”

Darcy grabbed Clint’s shoulders and fixed her wide, bloodshot eyes on his. “ _How._ ”

“I can pull some strings, do my ninja thing, and…make you her personal assistant,” Clint said smugly.

Darcy pulled back and grabbed the bar counter to steady herself. “I’m sorry, I must have heard you wrong, because I though you just said that you’re going to make me her _personal assistant_?”

 “Yep.”

“…Clint.”

“Yeah?”

“Does this make you my sassy best friend?”

“… _What?_ ”

“You know,” Darcy said, gesturing helpfully with her hands. “This is how it goes in all the chick flicks: I’m the plucky, down-to-earth girl in love with the main romantic interest who doesn’t even know I exist. Then there’s my sassy best friend who comes up with this insane scheme in order to get the two of us together and you make funny comments from the sidelines as I get into crazy hijinks while trying to seduce the main romantic lead.”

“You really _are_ the Internet,” Clint said, awed, passing along a full glass of beer to her.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Darcy nodded sagely.


	2. Training Montage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint coaches Darcy on the art of seduction.

Saturday, October 1| 9:21 AM

“Oh my god, what threw up and died here?”

Darcy glared at Clint’s ass, which was currently sticking out her closet and wiggling every so often. “Gee, thanks. I thought you were supposed to be helping me.”

“More like resuscitating you,” he muttered, flinging clothes left and right. “Too many turtlenecks and your blacks are all different shades and—oh god, I think my eyes are permanently scarred. A _tie-dye_ shirt with matching _socks_?!” Clint stepped out of the depths of her closet, carefully holding the offending items between his pointer and thumb. He gave her a Look.

“That was from sleep away camp,” Darcy protested. “I was like, _nine_.”

“That’s no excuse,” Clint said reprovingly. “How’re you going to seduce the _Black Widow_ with tie-dye socks? Just tell me that.”

“I don’t know,” Darcy sulked. “This was all your stupid idea. I was just going to ask her on a date or something.”

“That’s too simple and easy,” Clint said dismissively, throwing away the socks and shirt into the pile marked _BURN._ “You need to be involved in a hare-brained scheme so complicated and convoluted that it has every chance of success.”

“Ugh, I feel kind of funny,” Darcy groaned and flopped onto her bed, clutching her stomach.

“Hey, you okay?”

“I think I have a serious case of regret-itis,” Darcy said to the rabbit-shaped water stain on her ceiling.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Clint said distractedly, holding up a long purple scarf to the light. “Hey, do you think this’ll look good on me? I think it’ll bring out the green in my eyes.”

Darcy considered it for a long moment, hand stroking her chin contemplatively. “Hey, Clint, are you gay?”

“What?” Clint asked, bewildered, his brow furrowing.

“Just answer my question.”

“…I’m bi.”

Darcy considered it for another long moment. “Good enough,” she decided. “You can wear it only if I get to call you my sassy bi friend.”

Saturday, October 1 | 1:32 PM

“Suck your gut in! More! More, woman!”

“Ack—dying—need—oxygen—“

“Like Fury says, ‘No pain, no motherfucking gain!’”

“Clint?”

“Yeah, Darcy?”

“Can you—stand a little closer to me?”

“…Why?”

“So I can _strangle_ you with my bare hands.”

Saturday, October 1 | 6:23 PM

Darcy surveyed herself in the mirror, slowly turning around in her five-inch heels. “Clint,” she said slowly. “Are you sure this is work appropriate?”

Clint considered Darcy’s glittery garters, her bedazzled corset and artfully distressed pink ballet tutu. “I like it.”

“That’s because you like anything that _sparkles_ ,” Darcy hissed. “I’m pretty sure if Coulson sees me like this, he’s going to have a heart attack or something and _die_ and I don’t want to kill the guy who hired me! That’s kind of rude, you know!”

“Trust me,” Clint reassured her. “He’s seen some pretty bad things. He won’t bat an eyelash at this.”

“Not the point!”

Sunday, October 2 | 1:45 AM

“She takes her coffee black and coffee-flavored. And don’t get it from the SHIELD mess, their coffee is worth for shit—you gotta go to Manny’s, which is a deli on the corner of Lexington and 46th. It’s the only place in the city that carries the XXXL cups. This one time a paperpusher got her some Starbucks crap and I swear, Tasha almost sliced his balls off with a letter opener. The guy quit and went on disability pay or something because she traumatized him for life; poor guy could barely look at another woman without flinching and breaking into a sweat. She’s in and out of her office a lot, gets a lot of Classified stuff that even the Avengers don’t get, because apparently, ex-Russian spymasters and assassins are in pretty high demand. You’ll have to arrange for sleeping quarters in the Helicarrier, just to keep up with her weird hours. And…are you taking notes or not?” Clint demanded, hand on his hip.

“Whuzzat?” Darcy peeled her face off of her notebook, wiping off her drool with a sleeve.

“Never mind,” Clint sighed and tossed his purple scarf over his shoulder. “We can pick up tomorrow morning.

“Oh god,” Darcy moaned, flinging her notebook at Clint. “I feel like I’m in military school or something.”

“Buck up, soldier. We’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

“Normally, I’m a huge fan of training montages, but this is just not cool,” Darcy said sadly, sliding bonelessly off the couch and onto the floor.

“Training what?”

“Just ignore me,” Darcy informed him from the ground. “I tend to be more self-aware when I’m sleep-deprived.”

Monday, October 3 | 8:30 PM

“Good _night_ , Darcy.”

“But Clint, what if she doesn’t _like_ me? What if I end up spilling coffee all over her and be stupid and what if she thinks I’m the most awfulest personal assistant ever and she decides to fire me and then I’ll never be able to have her babies or anything and I won’t even have a job and then the world will end and I’ll be all alone in my house with a hundred cats!”

“Darcy, do you trust me?”

“As much as I can trust a man who I’ve only known for a week who’s been coaching me in the art of seduction.”

“Fair enough. You’ll do great, don’t worry about it. I believe in you, Darcy.”

“We now have official confirmation that Clint Barton and Darcy Lewis are starring in a chick flick.”

“Just shut up and go to bed before I bring out my tranquilizer arrows.”

“Fine. Be a big butt.”

“Fine.”

“ _Fine._ ”

“Fine—What are you, five?”

“You started it.”

“That’s it, I’m getting my bow.”

“Alright, alright, jeez, keep your pants on. I’ll go to bed.”

“ _Thank you._ ”

“…Hey, Clint?”

“What is it now?!”

“Thanks. For, you know. All of this. You didn’t have to.”

“Oh, well…Come on. We’re bros. Bros gotta back each other up.”

“Sassy bi best friends, not bros.”

“Whatever, same difference. Are you going to go to bed now?”

“Okay, good night for the last time no one talks again after this!”

“ _Finally._ ”

“You talked!”

“RAAAAARGH.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sassy bi best friends™ is totally a thing now.


	3. Nyan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy gets drunk and shows Steve the wonders of the Internet. (But not at the same time.)

Tuesday, October 4 | 9:35 AM

 

“Wow,” Darcy said, looking over the seemingly harmless countertop water distiller. “I am impressed.”

“All made from the apple juice supplied, unknowingly of course, by the mess hall,” Maria Hill said smugly, rubbing the corner of the distiller with a loving hand. “The best hooch on the helicarrier’s being made right in front of you. One glass and you’ll probably have alcohol poisoning.”

“Sound lethal,” Darcy commented, looking awed. “How’d you do all this in the women’s bathroom?”

“I was a chemical engineer before I transferred into SHIELD.” Maria smiled, teeth gleaming dangerously in the light. “And there isn’t any booze in this place because of the—“

“Don’t drink and fly policy,” Darcy finished for her.

“Which is bullshit,” Maria said dismissively. “No booze, you snooze.”

“I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship,” Darcy said, taking a long sip out of the cup Maria handed her. “What does by the way, _he_ —“ Darcy covered one of her eyes with a hand and waved at her hair “—say about this?”

Maria raised an eyebrow. “How do you think I made it up so high here?”

“General badassery and the ability to shoot straight with a gun?” Darcy guessed, her eyes already starting to glaze over.

“Well, yes,” Maria conceded. “But I also deliver a bottle of hooch to the boss every week. Keeps me on his better side.”

“I didn’t know he had a good side.”

“He doesn’t, really. He has a bad side and an even worse one. I try not to think about it too much.”

“Oh— _hic_ —I think— _hic_ —can I— _hic_ —have some more?”

Maria gently took the empty cup from Darcy’s hands and slowly guided her back to the exit. “I think that’s enough for today.”

“ _But RAINBOW MONKEYS.”_

Tuesday, October 4 | 8:45 AM

“She—I mean, the Avengers are _what?_ ”

“Saving the world from a mass army of Daleks bent on exterminating the human race.”

Darcy tried not to spit out her coffee, only succeeding to the point where it slowly dribbled out of her mouth.

Agent Somebody looked at her sympathetically. “You get used to it,” he said, patting her gently on the shoulder. “So you don’t really have anything to do today except settle into your quarters."

Darcy wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “So I’m essentially being paid to just sit on this giant flying boat all day?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Agent Somebody shrugged. “Try not to get lost—the last time someone wandered into the closed corridors, they went missing for a couple of months. Came back raving about dust monsters eating the world.”

“…Oh,” Darcy said, faintly.  “I think I actually miss my old job at McDonald’s.”

“Oh, it’s not as bad as all that,” Agent Somebody reassured her. “We have cable!”

“And suddenly, all of my regrets seem to have disappeared!” Darcy threw away her coffee and linked arms with the agent. “I can finally catch up with my soaps. Do you watch _Days of Our Lives?_ ”

“I’m more of a _All My Children_ kind of guy.”

Tuesday, October 4 | 12:29 PM

“How can I be hungover when it’s barely _lunchtime_ ,” Darcy moaned into the toilet bowl, as Maria held her hair back for her and rubbed her back.

“Just thinking of it as a…rite of passage,” Maria said brightly, heading towards the faucet and filling up a mug. “You know, first day on the job in a top secret organization. Get drunk to celebrate!”

“More like a top-secret _cult_.”

“I prefer to think of ourselves as an integrated sorority dedicated to serving the global community.”

“I feel like there’s an appropriate meme for this moment but I can’t think of one right now because I’m too busy emptying out the contents of my stomach.”

“All better?”

“Mgggggaaaaaarrrrggggghhhh.”

“Close enough.” Maria helped Darcy up from the ground and handed her the water, keeping a sharp eye on Darcy’s trembling hands. “Come on, I know an agent who knows an agent who makes a mean Bloody Mary.”

“Maria?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know whether to hate you or to go down on my knees and propose marriage.”

“Oh, that’s sweet of you, but I have a girlfriend.”

Darcy wiggled her eyebrows and tried leering. “Oh, _really_?”

“Did I mention that she’s certified in fifteen different types of martial arts and can take apart an AK-47 in under sixty seconds while blindfolded?”

“Oh, baby, keep talking dirty to me.”

Maria smiled and wound her arm around Darcy’s shoulders. “I think you’ll fit right in with the rest of us.”

Darcy looked up at her hopefully. “Does this mean I get a sparkly case for my taser?”

“I’ll talk to the Quartermaster.”

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want to marry me? I’ll build you a shrine!"

“I’ll think about it.”

Wednesday, October 5 | 8:14 AM

“So where is she today? Toppling undemocratic regimes? Kicking butts and taking names? Starring in a Bond film? Saving the world from crazy aliens bent on taking over the universe? Traveling around the world in a tiny blue box with a madman?”

“Agent Romanov is on a classified mission.” Coulson barely looked up from his paperwork, sparing her the briefest of glances.

“Is it classified or is it _classified_?”

“Ms. Lewis, I’m sure you have an office to organize and files to copy.”

“Well, yeah. But I also thought I was going to be a personal assistant. You know. To _someone_.” Darcy shrugged nonchalantly. “Kind of my job to know where my boss is.”

“Ms. Lewis.” Coulson stopped writing and put down his pen. Darcy tried not to quiver in her socks.

“Yes, Agent?”

“I’ll give you two options. Either you can sit in my office and keep me from doing my work, or you can head down to the mess hall where Captain America is having breakfast at the corner table right next to the—“

“ByeMr.Agentthanksforthetipyou’rethebest!”

Coulson picked up his pen again and quirked a brow. “Mr. Agent?”

Wednesday, October 5 | 8:21 AM

“Hi,” Darcy said breathily.

“Uh. Hello, ma’am. Can I—help you with something?”

“Are you _real?_ ”

“I—I’m sorry?”

Darcy reached out with a trembling finger and poked Captain America’s bicep. “Oh my god, you’re _real._ ”

“I don’t understand—“

“Do you know that there are at least fifteen twitter accounts, forty eight facebook accounts and thirty six tumblrs, all claiming to be you?” Darcy asked seriously, crossing her arms over her chest importantly.

“Face what?” Steve asked, bewildered.

“So…you’re not on the Internet?”

“…No?”

“I _knew_ it!” Darcy crowed. “Those jackasses, taking your good name and using it to get hot chicks and dicks. Don’t worry, Cap,” Darcy said, patting his arm reassuringly. “I’ll beat them up on your behalf.”

Steve smiled wryly. “I appreciate it…I think.”

“Darcy Lewis at your service, Mr. America.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Lewis,” he said, shaking her outstretched hand. “I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.”

Darcy’s eyes gleamed. “Well, Mr. Steve. Steve Rogers. Have you ever heard of the internet?”

“Sort of. Director Fury sent me a dossier detailing the basic—“

Darcy shook her head dismissively. “Memes? Social networking sites? 4Chan? Trolls? Reddit?”

Steve looked politely baffled. “I’m afraid not, Miss. Lewis.”

“Well,” Darcy smiled, slow and predatory. “I think you’ve come to the right person, Mr. Steve. Steve Rogers. During the day, I go by Darcy Lewis, but at night, when the moon is full, I turn into the _Internet_.”

Wednesday, October 5 | 8:57 AM

“Oh my God, please tell me you didn’t just break Captain America.”

“I didn’t just break Captain America,” Darcy repeated obediently. Clint looked at her, horrified.

“You broke _CAPTAIN AMERICA?!_ ”

“I didn’t!” Darcy protested. “Have you seen his muscles? They’re the size of my _head._ He’s unbreakable! Invincible! He’s Captain Fucking America!” Darcy paused and rubbed her chin contemplatively. “Now that I think about, that would make for a really good theme—“

“Darcy No Middle Name Lewis!”

“Clint Assbutt Barton!”

“ _Darcy._ ”

“I just— you know. He likes cats,” Darcy said defensively, holding her hands up. “He said he liked cats so I thought I would just show him—“

“Oh my God, please don’t tell me you showed him the I Can Haz Cheeseburger shit.”

“That is not shit!” Darcy said indignantly. “That is _art_. But no, I didn’t. I just showed him youtube videos of cats playing with yarn and maybelinkedhimtonyancat.”

Clint twirled his purple scarf around his neck dramatically and gave her the Look™. “What was that, Lewis? I couldn’t _hear_ you.”

“Nyan Cat,” Darcy said in a very small voice.

“Nyan _what._ ”

“You know, Nyan Cat! A poptart cat that flies through space…with rainbows….”

They both looked over to the table where Steve sat, his eyes glued to Darcy’s iPhone, head instinctively bobbing along to the tinny pop music. “He’s…it’s like he’s being _brainwashed_ ,” Clint said in a hushed whisper. “He’s just sitting there. And watching a cat fart _rainbows_.”

“Sometimes,” Darcy admitted, “I’m a little scared of how awesome I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...you know, this was supposed to be a fic about Darcy seducing Black Widow, but I think it kind of got away from me. Oops?


	4. GET DOWN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy meets Maria's girlfriend, is threatened by Coulson and plays a little game in the command center.

Thursday, October 6 | 11:58 AM

 

“And _then_ you know what he did?”

“No,” Darcy said, enthralled; she leaned forward, elbows propped up on the mess hall table. “Tell me more!”

“He _stomped_ his foot, said he quit, and went off to go tour Brooklyn with his hipster band.” Sharon shook her head sadly and speared her box of apple juice with a stiletto before licking the juice off of the blade. Darcy stared, mesmerized.

“But—but how did he say that to Coulson and _live_?” Darcy wondered, her eyes slightly glazing over.

“Oh, yeah,” Sharon brightened, sticking a straw in her juicebox. “I think he tripped while touring and broke his dick. Of course,” she added, not very reassuringly, “all the local hipster sites said it was an accident, but it was so obvious.”

“…Obvious?” Darcy offered tentatively. She picked at her fries and cheeseburger, looking a little green.

“Well, it had his signature all over it.” Sharon stabbed her sandwich with her knife and picked it up, eating it right off the blade. “You know, broken genitals, powdered donut trails, no blood, no mess. Totally Coulson’s style. And he never denied it anyway.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Eh.” Sharon chewed for a little bit and swallowed. “It’s not so bad, honestly. You should have seen the time Maria caught one of the techies playing Galaga when he thought she wasn’t looking. All hell and fire rained down in the command center. She’s so hot when she’s angry,” Sharon said dreamily and put down her make-shift sandwich kebob. “Honestly, we only fight just so we can have angry make-up sex right after.”

“Sounds hot,” Darcy said wistfully, picking up her burger and then putting it down again with a sigh.

Sharon propped her chin on her hands. “Oh, honey, what’s wrong?”

“I guess this makes you my secondary love interest’s love interest that gives me a life-alerting revelation about what I should do with my life,” Darcy said, holding a French fry between her fingers like a cigar.

“Normal people English please.”

“Okay. So. I got together with Clint right after I interviewed for a job—“ Sharon held up a hand.

“I know exactly how this is going to go because I know Clint. He convinced you to take part in a crazy scheme that has probably no chance of working out and he started giving you horrible fashion advice like wearing a purple kilt with a bedazzled corset to work.”

“How did you—“ Darcy said, awed.

“I’m a SHIELD agent,” Sharon smiled crookedly. “My unofficial title is Badass Bitch.”

“What do you think of threesomes?” Darcy asked, looking thoughtful.

“I’ll ask Maria,” Sharon promised. “But first, what exactly was the point of this whole scheme anyway? Don’t tell me—“

“I kind of sort of want to really badly sleep with Natasha Romanov, the love of my life?” Darcy finished for her, despondently chewing on her cigar-fry.

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you—“ Sharon made a vague hand motion.

“She saved my life from a giant killer robot,” Darcy said solemnly. “I wanted to ask her out but Clint pulled some strings to make me her PA. But she hasn’t even shown up to work yet so I’ve just been sitting around and breaking national treasures.”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” Sharon said, picking up her sandwich shish kebab again. “Took hours of History Channel specials on WWII before Captain Rogers snapped out of his coma.”

“In my defense—“

“Don’t worry about it; I heard Fury was more impressed than pissed. But then again, it’s kind of hard to tell with him. He’s got that _Don’t fuck with me, Motherfucker_ face on all the time. Anyway,” Sharon continued, mouth full. “My advice is: just be a really good PA and be funny. She’ll like that. And don’t comment on what she does or anything. S’kind of awkward since it’ll be all _so did you kill that guy_ or _how was sneaking into the Kremlin?_ ”

Darcy looked up from the notepad she had whipped out her purse and chewed on the end of her pen. “Anything else?”

“Ask her out for coffee or something? Get to know her before you show up to work wearing the Victoria’s Secret catalogue,” Sharon advised, running a hand through her long blond hair.

“Coffee and then skimpy lingerie, got it,” Darcy scribbled down.

“Great!” Sharon beamed at her. “Once you guys get together we could go on a double date and see a movie or something!"

“But where would you guys put all the knives?” Darcy joked.

“Oh, trust me,” Sharon said, lovingly fondling her stiletto. “I’ll find a way.”

Thursday, October 5 | 8:36 AM

 

“She’s not here today, huh?”

Coulson ignored her and continued, “You are restricted to the upper levels only, you are not to have any further contact with the Avengers Initiative without supervision, you are not allowed to imbibe alcohol while on this helicarrier and you are to obey the dress code—corsets, tutus and white go-go boots are banned.”

“But—“

“Though you are not banned from fraternizing with Agent Barton, you would do well to remember that his sense of fashion is questionable at best,” Coulson said, signing another piece of paperwork.

“You— _you lawyer_ ,” Darcy hissed, trying very, very hard not to stomp her boots on the ground.

“Ouch,” Coulson said dryly. “Now, don’t make me do this, but I have a hostage.”

“ _No_ ,” Darcy gasped. “You can’t—not—not—“

“Your iPod and I have been getting along very well these past few months.” Coulson leaned down and pulled a small orange object out of his briefcase. “Remember this?” he said, flashing her tiny iTouch at her. “I believe you named him…Rainbow Sparkle Unicorn.”

“You _monster_ ,” Darcy yowled, tossing her hair back. “I’ll—I’ll sic Clint on you and—“

“Now, now,” Coulson raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want anything happening to your precious Rainbow Sparkle Unicorn, now do you?”

“…I’ll find a way to overthrow your cruel regime, you—DICTATOR OF EVERYTHING AWFUL AND HORRIBLE.”

“I’ll take that as a no,” Coulson said and slid Rainbow Sparkle Unicorn into the inside pocket of his suit.

“A day shall come when your cruel tyranny will rule no longer, when your mighty dark forces will be cast down into oblivion, when I and the righteous forces will overthrow your throne and melt it down for scrap metal.” Darcy struck a pose, holding up a pen like a sword. “I, Darcy, Daughter of Lewis, swear upon my valiant sword and upon my—“

“I’ve got work to do, unlike some other people,” Coulson said. “Would you mind taking your performance outside?”

Darcy pointed two fingers at his eyes and then at her own. “I’m watching you, Son of Coul.”

“Say goodbye to your friend, Rainbow Sparkle Unicorn.”

“I PROMISE YOU, YOUR TERRIBLE REIGN WILL END—“

Coulson shut the door in Darcy’s face.

Thursday, October 6 | 5:45 PM

 

Darcy casually strolled into the command center and made eye contact with Maria. The other woman gave her a curt nod and continued monitoring the screens. Sharon was also there, talking with Agent Somebody over a tablet and Galaga Guy was busy pouring coffee from the refreshment stand.

Director Fury was standing impassively at the center of all this controlled chaos, his hands clasped behind his back. His gaze swept over her for a moment and Darcy held in her breath, trying to look as innocuous and innocent as one could in a bedazzled corset. He gave her a penetrating stare before moving on, apparently to glare someone else into submission.

Carefully, ever so slowly, Darcy put a finger on her ear. Catching Darcy’s eye, Sharon smiled and copied her. Agent Somebody started a little and hurriedly did the same. Slowly, it spread around the whole room, with all of the techies and agents following suit; Maria made it look professional as she cursed at one of her techies (the techie, not so much). Even Nick Fury joined in, looking like he was barking into the comm. at his ear.

The only one left was Galaga Guy.

Darcy smiled, her teeth gleaming in the light. “GET DOWN, MR. PRESIDENT,” she screamed.

Galaga Guy turned around and almost dropped the cup of coffee on his feet as every single person in the command center jumped at him, shouting, “GET DOWN, MR. PRESIDENT.”

“What the hell—“ was all he managed to get out before an avalanche of humans covered him from sight.

“Wow,” Maria said, suddenly appearing at Darcy’s elbow. “I am _impressed_.”

“Jesus Christ!” Darcy yelped, jumping in the air. “I think you just scared half my life off.”

“You know, I’m starting to get a little worried with you on board,” Maria continued, ignoring Darcy. “Who knows what’s next, you know? Hydra, I can handle. Evil people bent on destroying the world and all known inhabitants, I can handle. But you? I think you’ll be the death of us all.”

“Do you think Natasha would like that?” Darcy asked, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

“Oh my god, are you going to start piling dead bodies in front of her door now like a cat?”

“No!” Darcy protested. “Okay, maybe a _few_. She’s an assassin spy, right? It’ll be like sending love letters—I carve my devotion in a couple of corpses and mail it off to her."

“I need another drink,” Maria said. “A really, really big drink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dedicated to all my lovely tumblr friends  
> you enable my crack addiction


	5. Chapter 5

Friday, October 7 | 11:45 AM

 

“She _hates_ me,” Darcy wailed into her sandwich, snot running down her face and onto her whole wheat bread. “The love of my life, the other half of my soul, the sun around which my entire life orbits, the woman of my dreams, the queen of my heart—“ 

Clint reached across the table and gingerly patted Darcy on the shoulder. “Uh,” he said.

“You don’t understand,” Darcy sniffled, blotting her face with the tablecloth. “I’M A FAAAILLLLUUUURRRREEEEEEEE—“ 

“Jesus, okay, okay, just—ah—stop crying—oh my god, they never covered this in basic, DO YOU HAVE AN OFF BUTTON?” 

Darcy’s throat made a choked squeaking noise before she slumped over the table, her forehead resting on her now soggy sandwich. “It’s okay, Clint,” she said, her voice muffled by healthy five kinds of grains and seeds and other tasty fiber containing products bread. “You can go and be a badass purple ninja assassin dude. You can just—leave me here— _alone_ —“ 

“What did she even say to you?” Clint squinted as Darcy and her lunch slowly became one being. 

“That I’m—“

Friday, October 7 | 8:45 AM

 

“You’re late.” 

Darcy tried not to puke rainbows into her Iced Tazo Tea (Passion not Green Tea because she actually liked having taste buds) as Black Widow, the future mother of their adopted children, Greek Goddess and assassin, raised an eyebrow. “Oh my god, you’re here.” 

The eyebrow went up even higher. “I expected you here two and a half hours ago, Ms. Lewis.” 

“I—that is—Coulson—I mean you weren’t—“ 

“Tardiness is not tolerated in this office.” Black Widow gave her one last look before she turned back to the pile of papers on her desk, pen between her index and thumb. It looked like it could kill people. Lots of people. 

“Um,” Darcy coughed, aiming for casual and instead hitting crazy cat with a nasty hairball. “Do you—uh—where do I—“ 

Black Widow didn’t even bother to look up. “I have no need for a personal assistant. I take care of my own paperwork, I have my events calendar memorized and I prefer to brew my own tea. You will, of course, be retained on the payroll until further notice. Until that time, you are free to—“ 

“Wait,” Darcy blurted out and dropped her ice tea on the floor. “Are you _firing_ me?” 

“I was only fifty percent positive,” Black Widow said and then pen in her hand gleamed menacingly in the light. “Now I’m at about ninety nine percent. The dry cleaning bill for the carpet will be automatically deducted from your salary. We can negotiate a severance package and a confidentiality agreement later with Legal.” She put down her pen and stood up from her desk, the curve of her neck illuminated by the window at her back. “Unless, of course, you give me reason to believe that you’ll be a useful asset.” 

“This wasn’t in the job description,” Darcy swallowed, trying not to ogle and quiver in fear of her boss at the same time. 

“No,” Black Widow agreed. “It wasn’t. But neither were your expansion and incorporation of Hill’s illegal stills, your successful operation against Agent Reid, and your alliance with one of SHIELD’s top operatives. You’ve been very busy in my absence.” 

“Is this some kind of test? Because I so did not graduate college—in one piece!—in order to become some sort of ninja spy associate for you.” 

“I’ve given you your options, Ms. Lewis. You can either leave or you can show me what kind of personal assistant you can be.” Black Widow smiled and spread out her hands. “Well?”

“I—I—“ Darcy wracked her brain for a proper response while making a mental note to choke Clint for volunteering her for this stupid hare-brained scheme. “I know how to disable Captain America within five minutes?” 

“Was that a question?” Black Widow said gently, and pointed at the seat in front of her desk. “Please, sit.” 

“No?” Darcy squeaked and sat down, carefully skirting the puddle of ice tea on the carpeted floor. 

“Interesting. What methods do you use?” 

“I…showed him a video of a cat. And rainbows.” 

“Unorthodox, but effective. And I see that you’ve earned the good will of both Agents Hill and Carter, which is no easy feat.” Natasha sat on the edge of her desk and leaned over Darcy, giving her a very good view of the other woman’s chest. “I’ll give you a trial week. As you can see, I’m out of the office for various reasons that demand my time, but I expect you to report to the office at 0600 every day, you are to drop everything at a moment’s notice when I call for you. I demand the utmost discretion and loyalty—what I do is difficult and I don’t need any distractions. Is this clear?” 

“I—guess?” 

“Good. You’re dismissed for now.” 

Darcy was up from her seat and halfway to the door before she even realized what she was doing. It was that commanding voice—it did _things_ to her body. “Excuse me, uh, ma’am?”

Black Widow raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Ms. Lewis?” 

“What do you want me to—I mean, is it Agent Widow or Miz Widow or—“ 

“Or Aphrodite?” 

Darcy flushed and tried not to sink through the floor. 

“Agent Romanov is fine,” Black Widow smiled, the edge of her smile razor sharp. “Is there anything else you would like to ask?” 

Darcy smiled, shook her head, made an awkward little bobbing curtsy and fled.

Friday, October 7 | 8:40 PM

 

“Alright baby, we’ve got a number—“ Maria held up a six of hearts. “Ha! Drink if you like chicks!” 

The entire circle raised their beers and gave a resounding, “Cheers!” 

“C’mon Darcy-poo!” Sharon leaned on her shoulder, nuzzling Darcy’s neck affectionately. “Drink! Have fun! Makeout!” 

Darcy sighed and patted Sharon’s head awkwardly, trying very hard not to attract Maria’s attention (specifically, Maria’s big and very dangerous looking gun at her hip). “I’m on the job,” she said. “Ninja personal assistant job, remember?” 

“It’s Friday,” Duke said, shaking his head from the other side of the circle. “Damn shame for you to be kept working at an hour like this.” He gave a large and resounding belch and opened another can of beer. “Now if I were you—“ 

“And thank the Lord you’re not,” Darcy muttered into her bottle of Mike’s. 

“I would just get shitfaced _with_ her, you know what I’m saying?” Duke winked at her and Maria rolled her eyes.

“Don’t listen to the dickhead,” Maria said, patting Darcy unoccupied shoulder in a vaguely comforting way. “He’s just jealous you get to work with you know who. It’s good that you’re being professional about this.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Darcy said, half-heartedly playing with the carpet threads. “It’s just—I didn’t realize how—how—“ 

“Scary it would be?” Maria said sympathetically. “I know how it feels.” 

“How’d you—“ Darcy stopped and smacked her forehead. “Nick Fury, of course!” 

“Admittedly, the Director doesn’t spend his days assassinating threats to the country and world peace and killing aliens.”

“Yeah, Agent Romanov’s the _best_ ,” Darcy sighed longingly. “Hot _and_ competent. Woah, way to make a girl uncomfortable in her pants.” 

“I have every confidence in you, Darcy Lewis,” Maria said, sticking her card underneath the tab and motion at Sharon to pick a card. “You’re the Internet, remember? Plus, you’ve got that gorgeous rack.”

“King!” Sharon crowed, raising her red solo cup. “Everyone drink!” 

And right on cue, a giant robot came crashing through the wall behind them, lasers shooting out of its eyes (one of which hit Sharon’s cup straight on). 

“God dammit,” Sharon swore, dropping the half-melted mess of beer and plastic onto the floor. “Now I’ve got melted plastic all over my new shirt!”

Maria unholstered her gun and tossed it to Sharon, who caught it neatly with one hand and pulled out a knife from her bra with the other. 

“Dude, monster killing time!” Duke chanted, pulling out a rifle from his duffel bag. “Yo, shortie—you need something?” he asked Darcy, waving his gun in the air.

“Oh, please,” she said dismissively, fishing her taser out of her bag. “I’ve got my baby, here. Robot, schmobot, I’m good to go.”

The robot’s head slowly turned as if it heard her comments and its eyes were aimed straight at her. “DARCY LEWIS,” it said, laser-eyes blinking. “WE HAVE COME TO AVENGE OUR FALLEN BROTHER. PREPARE TO DIE.” 

“Oh, _shit_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....ta-da!
> 
> oh wow, it's been almost half a year since i updated.

**Author's Note:**

> Because there can never be enough Darcy Lewis.


End file.
